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Take Me Under

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When he actually got into the business, Steve already knew he was fucked. At six-foot-five, he was built like a football player with golden hair gelled into a perfect swirl. It wouldn’t be that bad, if he liked being dominant.

But, of course, he was on the far end of submissive, and it sucked.

He tried his best, though. Steve constantly went to this leather bar on the outside of town—it was Buck’s idea, but he’s never going to tell him he actually went—and he’s been there for almost every night the last two weeks.

And of course, the inevitable happened, that happened at all the other bars.

Every time he looked over at the men and women that reeked of dominance, they only winked, assuming he, too, was a dom. And he wasn’t.

However, this was his last night in the bar. Figuring he was wasting his time anyway, Steve ordered a shot of bourbon from the bartender, throwing the liquid back with an easy swallow. He turned and nearly offered his body to the masses, but his shy nature got the best of him and he curled up, like a flower.

Steve waited hours, but no on approached, and he sighed, long and drawn-out. The night was nearing a close, and it seemed though he wasn’t going to have any luck.

“Hey. Blondie.”

Steve’s head shot up, heart beating as he searched for the source of the voice.

“Over here, Adonis.”

Following the voice, Steve finally made eye contact with the mysterious caller, heart dropping at the sight. A smaller man around five-four walked up to him, sunglasses perched on his nose, even in the dark of the bar. Steve nearly called him a sub, but taking in his stance, he immediately folded back. This dom, whoever he was, meant business. Finally.

“Name?”

Steve blinked. The man sighed and took his glasses off, putting them on top of his head. Damn, those eyes. He reached up and snapped his fingers in Steve’s face.

“You new here, cupcake?” The man asked, a slightly sympathetic look on his face, “I need your name.”

“Steve,” Steve answered, finally getting his head on right, “Steve Rogers.”

The man grinned.

“That’s good,” he encouraged, “I’m Tony.”

Steve nodded, bowing his head.

“How can I help you?” he asked, keeping his head down.

Tony tsked and tapped his chin with his finger, making him look back up.

“That’s all forties and fifties arrangements,” he snorted, “I just want you to get me a drink.”

Steve blinked owlishly, thrown off again by lack of script.

“What?” he asked.

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward.

“Okay, newbie. I want a drink. Alcoholic. Doesn’t matter what it is,” he explained, waving his hand, “Go.”

Steve nodded and rushed over to the bartender, words dying on his lips. Finally, he got his act together.

“Sex on the rocks, please, three olives,” he asked, thanking the bartender once he received the drink.

He took it back over to Tony, gently laying a napkin on his outstretched palm before putting the drink in his hand. Tony raised an eyebrow before taking a sip, eyes widening.

“Hey, not bad,” he praised, “Good job.”

Steve shivered at the praise, a tiny smile on his lips.

“Thank you,” he replied softly, wringing his hands, “It means a lot.”

Tony tilted his head at that, swirling his drink around.

“You’ve never had a real dominance experience, have you?” he asked carefully.

Steve paused, then nodded.

“Once, I did. But we weren’t….compatible,” he explained, “And it was more of…. Him being bossy and me being a pushover.”

He laughed awkwardly, putting a hand on the back of his neck. Tony rolled his eyes with a fond smile, shaking his head.

“Listen, kid. I like you. I like the fact that you’re a sub who’s so fucking hot, and I like the fact that you’re pretty much new. Tell you what. I’ve got a boy at home, and I’m going to talk to him about you. If he agrees, would you like to come home with me sometime?” Tony asked.

Steve paused, feeling his heart sink. He’d be the third wheel.

But it was better than nothing.

“Of course,” he answered, knowing the uncertainty showed on his face.

“Phone.”

Obediently, Steve handed his over, letting Tony punch in his digits then send himself a text.

“Okay. I’ll get back to you within a day or so, sugar,” Tony hummed, “Good?”

He leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Steve’s lips, leaving the drink on the bar top before leaving as swiftly as he came.

Reaching up to his lips, Steve stood there a while, just watching the door where Tony had left. Slowly, his feet took him out that door to the night air.

“Damn it,” Steve whispered to himself, heading off toward his car, “I’m fucked.”

Once he was safely buckled and driving home, he did the only thing he could think to do.

Call Sam, considering Bucky would just make fun.


 

“You did what?”

“I went to a leather bar and this dom kinda picked me up but he also has someone else and I don’t know what to do,” Steve explained again, phone to his ear as he parked in his driveway, “He’s really hot, Sam. And sweet. And a bunch of other things. But I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“I’m sorry, I’m still getting used to the fact that you went to a leather bar.”

“Sam, on track here,” Steve sighed, going into his small house.

He tossed the keys into their bowl, collapsing on the couch.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized, “So, you met this guy, and he’s a good looker—“

“But he has someone else, and he still wants me to go along,” Steve finished, “I don’t want to be a third wheel, and I’m really not polyamorous.”

“Then don’t go for it.”

Steve sighed loudly.

“Alright, go for it.”

“Sam!” Steve complained, “Pick an answer!”

“Look man, I don’t know anything about this stuff,” Sam snorted, “Hold on, let me get google up. What is it?”

“Dominance and submission,” Steve sighed, “You know BDSM? The DS part is usually discipline and sadism, but it can also be dominance and submission.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re into bondage, too.”

Sam.”

The other man sighed, the sound of computer keys clicking audible through the phone.

“Alright, and what did he call the other person? His sub?”

“No, his boy,” Steve clarified, heart aching, “I think that’s worse.”

There was silence for a bit as Sam clicked around.

“Actually, it’s not. Being a ‘boy’ is defined as ‘a person who acts a submissive in a relationship, but does not partake in sexual activities. This type of designation is for those that need control over certain emotions, such as rage or jealousy.’ Seems like he’s just helping a dude out,” Sam offered.

Steve bit his lip, hope quivering in his chest.

“So… go for it?” he asked.

“Go for it,” Sam confirmed, “And dude, next time, go to Bucky with your weird-ass sex life.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Anytime.”

Steve hung up his cell and tossed it onto the coffee table, a happy smile on his lips. For once, things seemed to be going his way, especially if the boy agrees to him coming over.


 

“No, Tony.”

“Bruce, don’t be jealous,” Tony scolded, making himself a cup of coffee, “He’s a sub, not a boy.”

“That’s the point,” Bruce stressed from the couch where he was curled up with a cup of tea, “I’m just here because you keep me grounded. Once you get some sex freak—“

“Steve isn’t a sex freak, watch yourself,” Tony warned, going over to sit in his recliner, “He’s obviously new and awkward, and I think you two would get along. Besides, Brucie, we talked about this. You knew when I took you on and you know now that I still want a sub. And I think I found him.”

Bruce sighed, taking a sip of chamomile.

“I still don’t like it,” he muttered, “I know I’m jealous at times, but so soon? Tony—“

“Bruce, he doesn’t know me,” Tony interrupted, “He didn’t recognize me. At all. You know how hard that is to find? Poor thing’s completely awkward, shy, and I know he’s not after me for money. I really want to give this a shot.”

Bruce sighed again.

“You’re the dom, Tony. I can’t tell you what to do,” he replied, “It’s your decision, not mine.”

“Yeah, it is, but you’re still a part of that,” Tony answered, sipping his coffee, “You two would be hanging around a lot. I think he’d be good for you, Bruce. He’s a big oaf. Trust me?”

“Trust you,” Bruce replied automatically.

He narrowed his eyes once he realized what he said, rolling them at Tony’s laughter and whoop.

“Fine. Dinner, then,” Bruce agreed, “A little test run.”

“Already texting him,” Tony grinned.

Dinner. Tomorrow. 6PM. Stark Tower. –T

Looking over at his phone, Steve frowned at the chime, picking it up. He read the text, feeling his heart jump at the tag line.

You sure pick a fancy place. I’ll be there. –S

Smiling down at his phone, Tony clicked it shut, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Phase one down,” he announced, giggling at Bruce’s groan.


 

Steve’s reaction was not as happy. As soon as realization set in, he stood from his chair and started to pace, sweat beading on his neck. The next eighteen hours were spent in restless sleep and agonizing over clothing. Bucky would make him wear skin-tight leather, and Sam would probably pick something that isn’t him because it made his ass look good.

The hour before dinner came, and Steve settled on his favorite khakis and a plain t-shirt with a red cardigan. He combed his hair into a perfect spiral, testing the waters by spritzing Gucci Guilty onto his neck.

Before he could wimp out, Steve grabbed his keys and wallet, nearly sprinting down to his bike. Thankfully, he didn’t need to print directions to Stark Tower; the big ugly building in New York wasn’t hard to spot. Roaring down side streets, Steve was shaking by the time he pulled up to the Tower gates, unsure if it was from nerves or the wind chill.

Either way, he nearly choked when a valet asked for his keys.

“Don’t worry, they’ll take good care of it.”

Steve turned at the familiar voice, heart going to his knees at the sight of Tony, all dressed up.

For him.

“Hi,” he managed, flushing at Tony’s laugh.

“C’mon, cupcake,” Tony soothed, putting a hand on Steve’s lower back, “Dinner’s waiting upstairs, and Bruce wants to meet you. You really need to impress him, sugarplum.”

“Bruce?” Steve echoed, “Your, uh, boy, I presume?”

Tony nodded, patting Steve’s back as they headed into an elevator.

“Got it in one,” he confirmed, giving Steve a gut-flipping smile, “Don’t worry, I can already see that look on your face. He’s not much bigger than me, nothing to be afraid of. Except for his anger.”

Steve swore he must have had his mouth open the entire ride up, since his tongue was absolutely dry when the elevator doors opened. The floor was startlingly beautiful; of course, it was expected, but such extravagance still baffled Steve.

“Come on,” Tony smiled, taking Steve’s hand, “Dinner’s this way.”

He pulled Steve along, who nearly tripped over his own feet when he saw the buffet laid out on an enormous dining table. There, at the end, next to the head of the table, sat a smallish man, brunet, with glasses.

“Bruce?” Steve asked before Tony could speak.

He went over with an outstretched hand, eagerly shaking the man’s hand.

“I’m Steve. Steve Rogers. I’m sorry if I’m cutting in on anything here,” Steve apologized, smiling warmly at the gaping Bruce, “You don’t mind if I stay for dinner, do you? I don’t want to intrude.”

Bruce simply looked from Steve to Tony and back, mouth open.

“I—ah, yes? No? I don’t mind, please stay,” he babbled, earning a laugh from Tony.

“Yep, I knew it, I’m a genius,” Tony boasted, going to sit at the head of the table, “Steve, on my left, please. Unless you want to sit next to Bruce.”

“Across is fine, thank you,” Steve accepted with a smile, carefully taking his cardigan off and draping it across the back of the chair.

He nearly sat, before he jolted up straight, eyes straight ahead. The other two men made eye contact for a minute before Tony coughed.

“Steve?” he prompted.

“Waiting for you to sit first,” Steve clarified.

Tony bust out into laughter again, hand clutched at his stomach as he hunched over.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so old fashioned, I love it,” he wheezed, sitting down in his chair, “Sit, Steve, holy shit, you don’t need to ask.”

Steve flushed again, knowing his cheeks were dark pink as he sat down. Scooting his chair in, he kept his head down, pouting at his empty plate.

“Tony. You made him embarrassed.”

“What? It’s adorable!”

“He’s obviously shy, Tony. And didn’t you say he was new to this in the first place.”

“…Right. Sorry, Steve.”

“It’s okay,” Steve replied automatically, still not looking up from his plate.

“You hurt his feelings.”

“Bruce, be quiet.”

“You still hurt his feelings. And he’s my friend.”

Steve looked up at that, nervous hope in his chest.

“Friends?” he echoed.

Bruce tilted his head and chuckled softly.

“No one, in my entire eight years of living here, have talked to me without Tony’s introduction,” he explained with a warm smile, “I appreciated it. I’d like to think we’re friends.”

Steve laughed and smiled, but only Tony recognized the tight emotion behind Bruce’s reigned smile.

“Alright, boys, knock it off and eat,” Tony interrupted, waving his hand, “Make merry, and all that. Bruce, could you get us a round of Fat Tire?”

Bruce nodded and bowed his head as he stood, making his way to the kitchen. Once he was gone, Tony turned with a sigh, putting his hand over Steve’s.

“He’s a little agitated tonight,” he explained quietly, “He’s very… protective of me, and I can already feel him bristling.”

Steve’s brow creased and he nodded, handing Tony the potatoes before putting his hands in his lap and looking down.

“Sorry,” he replied softly, fiddling with his fingers.

Tony sighed but didn’t offer an answer, spooning a portion of food for himself before divvying the rest out between Bruce and Steve. By the time Bruce returned, all the food had been portioned out, and Steve still looked at his lap.

“Now what did you do?” Bruce asked Tony.

Tony stood abruptly from his chair and took the tray from Bruce’s hands, putting the beers down before grabbing his bicep and dragging him out of the room. Steve watched them go with his mouth open, pretending not to listen in on their conversations right outside the door.

“You need to stop that. Right now.”

“Stop what?”

“Bruce, I know you’re baiting him. You want him to mess up horribly so you can keep me all to yourself. You’ve done it before. Remember Pepper?”

“I—Tony—“

“Camera feeds don’t lie, and neither does experience. You can either go in there with an apology, or I’m adding to the tally.”

“Tony!”

“Tally it is. Go sit.”

Steve ducked his head at that, keeping himself busy with straightening his silverware as the two men made their way back into the room. Tony sat first, but Bruce resolutely stood, looking off.

“Sit,” Tony ordered, voice completely different from what Steve had heard before.

Bruce immediately sat, arms crossed as he stared at his plate.

“Eat.”

And he did.

“Wow,” Steve breathed to himself, reverence and awe in his voice as he turned to Tony.

Tony shook his head and pointed to Steve’s food. Getting the message, the three ate in silence, a heavy awkwardness hanging over them. By the time they were all finished, Bruce stood and began to clear the plates. Steve stood to help, only to be pulled back down by Tony.

“Stay.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he nodded, obediently staying in his seat. Once Bruce had cleared all the dishes, Tony gave him a look.

“Go get your tally sheet, Bruce,” he instructed.

Bruce’s mouth fell open, paling as he looked between Tony and Steve.

“I—In front of Steve? Tony—“

“Now, Bruce,” Tony ordered.

Obediently, the brunet lowered his head and trudged off.

“Tally sheet?” Steve asked, more curious than ever.

“It’s a system of punishment I have,” Tony explained, scooting his chair back slightly, “Rather than punish my subs or boys right away, I usually wait and do it all at once later, unless they ask for immediate punishment. Bruce prefers waiting, so he can get it all done at once, and not be sore.”

“How many does—do subs usually get?” Steve asked.

“Well, judging by the look on your face, you’re one to want to have your punishments right away, yes?” Tony replied.

Steve flushed, but he nodded.

“Okay. So in the morning, you would have five, and ten before bed. It varies throughout the day, depending how good or bad you are,” Tony continued.

Steve’s brow nodded.

“Five? Five whats?” he asked, tilting his head, “Rounds of sex?”

Tony nearly spit his beer out.

“No, no, hell no. I’m in my forties, I can go about three times a day,” Tony laughed, putting his hand on his forehead, “Think physical punishments, Steve. Spankings.”

As if flicking a switch, Steve felt himself get hard.

Shit.

Thankfully, Bruce walked in with a scrap of paper, handing it Tony as he knelt next to his chair. Tony looked over the scrap before nodding, pulling Bruce up and over his lap. Steve tried to keep his gaze away out of respect, but Tony cleared his throat.

“I want you to watch, to make sure you’d be okay with this,” Tony murmured, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve whispered.

“Forty, Bruce. You don’t have to count,” Tony told the brunet, making sure Bruce was comfortable before starting.

Steve watched with amazement at Tony’s controlled swing, nearly drooling at how the muscles in Tony’s hands and arms bunched with each smack. Not realizing how obviously hard he was, Steve whimpered, only to clap a hand on his mouth. Tony faltered only for a second before getting out the last ten smacks, helping Bruce up.

“Lotion. Bath. Green tea, and bed,” Tony ticked off, gently rubbing Bruce’s sore bottom, “You need it.”

Bruce ducked his head and nodded, muttering something that sounded awfully a lot like “thank you” before scooting off.

Once Bruce was gone, Tony turned to Steve, eyes wide as saucers.

“Did you fucking whimper?” he squeaked.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realize—“

“Do you know how fucking hot that is? Jesus, Steve. We need to try shit out--” Tony caught himself and cleared his throat, trying not to look as eager as he felt, “—I mean, we’ll need to agree on what we’re doing here.”

“I think…” Steve smiled softly, subtly trying to hide his erection. “I think I could see myself here, if you’d let me.”

Tony grinned and clapped his hands, standing with a whoop of joy.

“Come on. Let’s get you settled in—“

He grabbed Steve’s hand, who only pulled it back.

“I still have a house I live at, Tony,” Steve laughed softly, standing up anyway, “I’d need to go get a few things, and tell my landlord—“

“Just gimmie your address, and I’ll have it all done for you,” Tony interrupted.

Steve blinked at the offer.

“…How?” He asked, confused.

Tony paused, then started to laugh again, brushing away a tear from his eye.

“You still haven’t figured it out,” he wheezed, “Steve, I’m Tony Stark.”

Steve paused.

“Am…am I supposed to know that name?” he asked carefully.

Tony all but gasped, practically horrified.

“Number one in clean energy? Stark phones? Stark Tower?” He squeaked.

“I live in Brooklyn, Tony! I have a flip phone!” Steve mumbled, crossing his arms with a pout.

“I know you do. I find it cute. However, I also find it amazing that you really have no idea who I am,” Tony hummed, reaching over to peel Steve’s hand away to hold it, “Come on. Let’s go talk for a bit.”

Steve nodded and let Tony hold his hand, following him over to the couch. Tony sat first before pulling Steve down, laying a pillow in his lap and laying down.

“This okay?” Tony asked, looking up at Steve.

Steve flushed, but he nodded.

“I’m confused,” he admitted, “I’m a sub. Shouldn’t—shouldn’t this be the other way around?”

“Doms need comfort too, silly. And I’m smaller, anyway. That and I’m a cuddle bug,” Tony grinned, turning to nose at Steve’s abdomen, “Little disappointed to feel that your friend’s gone already, though.”

Steve blushed deeply, venturing to reach up and pet Tony’s hair.

“Can’t control it sometimes,” he mumbled, “I have a really, really high libido.”

“Perfect. I wanna see how many times you can come for me.”

Steve choked on his words, hand stilling in Tony’s hair. Tony laughed loudly, turning his face to grin up at Steve.

“I’m kidding,” he soothed, “I don’t expect—“

“Let’s do it,” Steve interrupted, face still red.

Tony’s sentence died on his lips and he nodded, scrambling off Steve’s lap to stand.

“Let’s do it,” he repeated in a whispered giggle, pulling Steve up.

He dragged Steve off to his bedroom, hastily tearing his t-shirt off with a breathy groan.

“You’re so hot, and I can do anything with you,” Tony groaned, shutting the bedroom door behind them, “Oh my god, Steve.”

“Wait, Tony, safewords,” Steve moaned, pulling back slightly.

“Colors. Green for good, Red for stop everything, Yellow to slow down,” Tony murmured, grabbing a pillow from the bed to put on the floor.

He pushed Steve down to his knees, undoing his belt with one hand.

“Suck me,” he commanded.

Steve ran his hands up Tony’s inner thighs, using nimble fingers to pull his jeans and boxers down to his ankles to take them off.

“No collar?” he asked cordially, looking up at Tony from under his eyelashes.

“I’ll take you and let you pick it out,” Tony groaned, sifting his hand through Steve’s hair, “C’mon, get to it. I wanna spread you out.”

“Yessir,” Steve answered, smiling as he watched Tony’s cock jump at the pet name.

Slowly, he took Tony into his mouth, lightly nipping and suckling the head before taking him all the way down, looking up at Tony as drool ran down his chin.

“Fuck, thought y-you were an amateur,” Tony moaned, having to put a hand on the bed to keep his knees from buckling.

Steve hummed low in his throat, pulling off with a breathy moan.

“I’m new to subbing, not sucking cock,” he purred, letting Tony sit and spread his legs, “And I must say, you taste pretty good, Mr. Stark.”

“Fuck,” Tony breathed, canting his hips up toward Steve’s mouth, “C’mon. Get me completely hard so I can fuck you.”

Steve moaned and took Tony in hand, slowly stroking him as he leaned down to lick and kiss at his balls, pressing kisses up his inner thighs to his pubic hair.

“Condom?” Steve asked, looking up at Tony.

Tony nodded and reached over to his nightstand, rifling through it before grabbing a bottle of lube and a couple condoms. He grinned down at Steve, slowly starting to thrust his hips up into Steve’s mouth.

“Damn, you feel good,” Tony moaned, head dropping back, “You’re a pro, and still a virgin. Incredible.”

Steve laughed and pulled off before he choked, standing to shuck off his jeans and underwear.

“How do you want me?” he asked, standing with a shy smile.

“Down on elbows, ass in the air,” Tony smirked, switching places with Steve, “Might wanna a pillow. You’ll be there a while.”

Steve whined at that, obediently following Tony’s directions. He put his head on a pillow, about to ask Tony what he was doing when he felt something brush against his hole.

“Fuck,” he whispered, recognizing the feel as that of a tongue, “Oh my god—“

Tony smacked Steve’s right flank once, pressing a kiss to the reddening handprint.

“Language,” he corrected, leaning back down to gently kiss around Steve’s entrance.

Using his thumbs, Tony slowly pulled Steve’s cheeks apart, revealing his hole with a breathy moan. Without wasting time, he ducked his head down to gently lick at the taut muscle, slowly slipping his tongue inside. Steve moaned and pushed back onto Tony’s tongue, clutching at the sheets. He trembled, sweat beading on his forehead from the stimulation.

“T-tony,” he moaned, “Please, not enough—“

“Shh,” Tony shushed Steve and pulled back, grabbing the lube and a condom with one hand.

Quickly, he slicked himself up a little before tearing to condom package open and rolling it on. Taking his time with the lube, Tony warmed it up between his fingers, gently easing a finger into Steve once he was ready.

Steve yelped at the intrusion, quickly dissolving into needy moans as he rocked back onto Tony’s finger. Slipping in a second digit, Tony smiled at Steve’s eagerness, letting him fuck himself on his fingers.

“Think you can take three fingers?” He asked.

Steve nodded and whimpered, spreading his knees further to give Tony more room. Tony willingly slipped a third finger in, carefully stretching Steve open.

“Think you can take me yet?” Tony continued lowly, “Think you can take my big cock? Don’t be shy, Stevie. I see how big you are. You might be nine inches, but you’re not thick like me.”

Steve moaned loudly, scrabbling at the sheets as he fucked himself on Tony’s fingers.

“Yes, yes, please, I can take you,” he begged, “Anything, I need anything.”

Slowly, Tony pulled his fingers out and lubed himself up, nudging the tip of his cock at Steve’s hole. He pushed in, groaning deeply.

“Steve, you’re so tight and warm,” He purred, sheathing himself completely in the blond, “My god, you’re perfect, angel.

Steve cried out, limbs shaking as he tried to keep himself supported. Tony took note and got his hands around Steve’s hips, helping hold him up.

“Go, go, please,” Steve whispered.

Tony nodded and started to thrust, easily picking up his pace. With Steve’s cries coaxing him, Tony easily snapped his hips, causing Steve to bow up and scream out in pleasure, having to grab at the headboard to keep from hitting his head.

“Please, please, Tony, I’m so close,” He begged, rolling his hips back to meet Tony’s thrusts, “Please, please—“

“I got you,” Tony breathed, reaching around with one hand to pump Steve’s cock in rhythm with his thrusts, “C’mon, sugar, you got it, you’re right there—“

Steve came with a shout, chanting Tony Tony Tony as he covered the sheets in stripes of his own come.

Still slamming into Steve, Tony felt the blond clench around him and moaned deeply, pushing himself in to the hilt before coming, body shuddering as euphoria rode down his back in waves. Once he was sated, Tony slowly pulled out, taking the condom off, tying it up and throwing it away with a warm smile.

“Fuck,” Steve wheezed from the bed, hair matted down with sweat, “S’good.”

Tony laughed softly and went over to smooch Steve’s forehead, helping him up off the bed.

“Bath, then bed,” He murmured softly, knowing Bruce would be in to change the sheets, “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Steve nodded and followed Tony’s lead, sliding down into the bathtub with a warm sigh. Tony climbed in next, settling himself on Steve’s chest.

“Good?” he asked.

“Best,” Steve answered truthfully, a dopey smile on his lips, “Definitely best.”

Tony looked up with a bright smile, tilting his chin ever so slightly to properly kiss Steve.

“So you’ll stay?” he asked softly, grabbing the soap to clean them both down.

“I’ll stay,” Steve confirmed, letting Tony clean him off.

He was quiet for the rest of their bath time, soaking in his afterglow with soft hums. Eventually, Tony had to help him out of the tub, letting Tony dry him off and dress him in warm pajamas.

“Who’s are these?” Steve asked, pulling at the material, “They’re…small.”

“Mine,” Tony apologized, leading Steve over to the bed, “Crawl in. Okay?”

Steve nodded, obediently getting in under the covers. Tony left for a second before coming back into the room, happily scooting in next to Steve.

“Bruce okay?” Steve whispered.

“He’s okay,” Tony confirmed, wrapping an arm around Steve and rubbing his back, “He just needs to get used to us. But he’s okay.”

“He doesn’t sleep with you?”

“Bruce? Hell no. I don’t like Dutch ovens, thanks.”

Steve snorted a laugh, happily cuddling up to Tony with a warm hum. He smooched Tony’s chest, feeling the muscles in his back start to loosen.

“Sleepy?” Tony murmured, “Sleep, Steve. You need it. You were very good today. I’ll even pass on your ten before bed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Steve mumbled back with a smile on his lips.

Before he drifted off, he used to last of his energy to reach up and kiss Tony’s cheek, nuzzling him with a quiet hum.

“Thank you,” he whispered again, “For everything.”

Tony laughed softly and kissed Steve’s temple.

“Sleep,” he giggled.

He watched Steve settle down, slowly stroking his hair till the blond fell asleep. Content that Steve was warm, comfortable, and not yet sore, Tony let himself settle down, closing his eyes to drift off.

Little did either of them know that Bruce stood outside the door, soiled sheets ripped between his hands.